Never Been Loved
by Satineladiamant
Summary: Satine confronts Zidler for making her sleep with the Duke...it doesn't have a plot as such, it's more about the relationship between the two characters. Please, please R&R because I'd love to know what people think!


What if Harold had told Satine of her supper with the Duke 24 hours earlier, giving her a night to prepare emotionally? This story is set the night before the confrontation with the Duke. Satine is thinking things over. This is my first story here...be gentle with me! 

DISCLAIMER: I don't own any of these characters. Wish I did, but it looks like I'll have to marry Baz Lurhmann before that happens. Fine by me (hehe) 

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Satine paced up and down the empty main hall of the Moulin Rouge, restless. It was late, she knew that, and she shouldn't be there. But she didn't care. Nothing seemed to matter any more. Christian, her Christian...she knew it couldn't last. From the beginning, she'd known that. But she loved him, oh, how she loved him, and it was too soon for it all to end. 

Centuries too soon. 

She couldn't sleep with the Duke, just couldn't. It would begin with a supper, but then who knew what could happen? She couldn't possibly go through with it. But she knew she didn't have any other choice. 

_It's my job, it's my job, it's my job_.... she whispered to herself. But it didn't make things any easier. It was all Harold's fault. She needed someone to blame, and Harold was the obvious choice. Without Harold, there would have been no Spectacular Spectacular and no Duke. And she wouldn't have had to go through this. Sure, she wouldn't be a star without the show. But that was nothing against this. It was all Harold's fault. She could see him in her mind's eye, dancing for joy, shouting and laughing...the night before, that image would have been only her Zidler, her carer...almost...her father. But now the thought of him repulsed her. 

"Satine? You shouldn't be up so late. Let me take you back to the elephant," 

It was him. Harold. The one person she didn't want to see. 

"No," she said softly. "I'm not going to the elephant tonight. And you can't make me." It was childish, she knew, but at that moment, she wanted to annoy him as much as it was within her power to do. 

His face clouded over. "Satine, you've got a big day tomorrow. Supper with the Duke...it's _very_ important," 

She spun round, eyes flashing. "Important to _you_, you mean!" 

He stepped towards her, looking puzzled. 

"What on earth do you mean?" 

For a moment, Satine was frightened. She'd never said anything of that sort to Harold before. But it had just slipped out. She was so very _angry_ at him. She spoke again. And now the fear had gone and left raw anger. 

"Don't plead ignorance with me! You know perfectly well what I mean! You're destroying everything, Harold. I've never had much to call my own until Christian came, and for a little while, Harold, I felt as though I had everything. And you're taking that all away by making me sleep with the Duke. It can never last between Christian and me if you make me sleep with that man. And I know it's not going to end with dinner. You _are_ going to make me sleep with him. I'm not an _imbecile_." 

"But it's for the show...you know it is. Darling, please, don't upset yourself." 

"Damn the show! It's all about you...fuelling your dreams. I don't matter, do I? Christian is more important to me than any show. He _loves_ me. You'll never, ever know that feeling, Harold. Because you've never been loved. By anyone, in any way. We all know Marie is just your work partner, and certainly nobody else feels anything for you!" 

"Satine, don't talk like that. _You_ love me. You know you do. You're like my daughter...I've raised you and cared for you like family. Admit it. You love me really." 

Satine froze. She was shaking with rage, and at some point in her last outburst she'd begun to cry. Even whiter than her usual pallor, her cheeks were wet, but she fixed her view on Zidler and refused to look away. Standing opposite each other, staring each other out, she and Harold looked like old enemies, not father-and-daughter, how they'd always been. 

"Harold, I thought once that I loved you. In everything except name, you were my father and I loved you. But you're not my father, Harold! A father wouldn't do this to me! A father would love me! You don't love me!" 

"Satine..." 

"You've never once told me you loved me! Not once! I hate you! I hate you, I hate you, I hate you!" 

Harold's face crumpled. He looked stricken. 

"Satine..." 

Satine ran to the far end of the hall, towards the stage. On impulse, she buried her face in a red velvet curtain, and suddenly a memory broke into her mind. 

She was nine years old -more than ten years ago now- and didn't have a job at the Moulin Rouge yet- she was too young. She'd been found on the streets by Harold the year before, and he was training her as a star. At that time, Nini, Satine's long-time enemy, had been twelve, and their relationship had been little better than nowadays. Nini had been teasing Satine. She'd pulled her hair, pinched her, and when Satine had cried, called her a baby. Satine had howled and run into the dance hall, towards the stage. She'd buried her face in a red velvet curtain... 

_Buried her face in a red velvet curtain_.... 

...and cried out loud. And Harold had come. He'd picked her up, so small in his arms, and held her close until she'd stopped crying. Her father? 

She half-smiled at the memory. 

From the soft, crimson folds of the curtain, she heard footsteps. Harold was coming down the long hall. But she was ready. If he approached her once more, she'd hit him. The guards poised at the door, prepared for riots, would probably take her away, but she didn't care. She hated him. Didn't she? 

He lifted the curtain and smiled a little. Satine raised her hand to slap him, but he took hold of her wrist, ever so gently, and lowered the upraised arm. Then he leaned forward, and held her close. 

_Held her close_... 

She didn't fight. The anger was there, but it wasn't going anywhere. She couldn't speak, couldn't hit out, could barely move. She felt so vulnerable. 

"Satine, if there was a way I could have avoided this, I would have. But there's nothing we can do. This is for you. It might not seem like it, but it's for you. Without the show, the Moulin Rouge would be demolished...we couldn't fund it on our own," 

"But Christian is more important than..." 

He raised a finger to her lips to quieten her, then said, "Shh. Without the Moulin Rouge you'd lose Christian anyway. We'd have to travel... travel a long way away to find anywhere that we could start again with such little money... and he couldn't come with us. It wouldn't be possible. To tell the truth, Satine, I doubt you'd ever see him again. You must go through with this. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. But it's for everyone's sake. Not just for the show. You, me, the other performers, everyone. Do you understand why this is so important?" 

Yes, she did. All of a sudden, she did. Sometimes you have to make sacrifices... she nodded. 

Harold took her hand and led her to the centre of the hall. "You're my little girl, Satine. I would never do anything that wouldn't be best for you in the long run." 

"But this hurts so..." 

"Satine, it hurts me too. Words can't say how much it hurts me. In the end, I'm making you do this because I couldn't bear to see you on the streets again. But it breaks my heart to to see you so unhappy. I love you desperately, Satine. Know that and try to love me back again. _I love you_." 

Satine dissolved into tears of pure emotion. Harold said nothing. Instead, he gently pulled her close to him, so small in his arms, and kissed the waves of red that were her beautiful hair. And he let her weep until morning. 

And that is where we must leave them. Locked in an embrace, Harold and Satine, Zidler and his Diamond, or simply father and daughter. 

_Le Fin_


End file.
